Showing posts with label valentine's film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label valentine's film. Show all posts
Sunday, February 15, 2026
Friday, February 13, 2026
💝💋📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘💋💘: Sweeter than Chocolate by Lizzie Shane
**NOW A HALLMARK CHANNEL ORIGINAL MOVIE!**
Do the Cupid chocolates from Lucy's shop really lead to true love?
Lucy Sweet has the magic touch when it comes to love. Rumor has it when you eat one of her Cupid chocolates on Valentine's Day, you'll meet your soulmate. Lucy is wary of putting too much faith in the legend, but she loves that How Sweet It Is has been a part of so many love stories...and if she wants to keep her great-grandparent's chocolate shop afloat, she needs all the help she can get.
Or is it all an elaborate con?
Ambitious and skeptical reporter Dean Chase doesn't believe in magic, and he's not too keen on love-at-first sight either. He prefers facts to fate, and he takes pride in his role as defender of the little guy. When a post about the Cupids goes viral, Dean is assigned to do a puff piece on Lucy and her shop. He's fully prepared to take down the chocolate shop taking advantage of romantic desperation, but he isn't prepared for Lucy.
Smart, funny, driven...she's not at all what he expected, and might be exactly what he needs. Will the legend melt like chocolate under closer inspection? Or could this cynic actually start believing in magic...and love?
Chapter One
There was nothing in the world so heavenly as the smell of fresh chocolate. Lucy Sweet had learned that at a very early age, standing at her great-grandmother’s knee in the kitchen of her family’s chocolate shop.
Burned chocolate, on the other hand? Not so great.
Which was why Lucy was currently hiding from the acrid, bitter scent—and the sneezing fit it had triggered—in the front area of How Sweet It Is. Her grandmother was training their new clerk, and Lucy was trying to stay out of their way, pretending to restock the display cases, while an ancient fan directed the charred chocolate fumes from the shop’s kitchen toward the back alley. Away from the sensitive noses of any potential customers.
Lucy wasn’t in the habit of burning chocolate. But then she wasn’t normally as distracted as she was today, obsessing over the sign that had appeared this morning on the empty storefront across the street.
COMING SOON: LA VIE DOUCE. FRENCH DELICACIES.
La vie douce. The sweet life.
Her stomach had been in knots ever since she’d spotted it, and the burned chocolate wasn’t the only casualty. She’d also ruined two batches of caramel before admitting to herself she was wasting her time…and ingredients.
Fortunately, her grandmother was too busy assisting their slow trickle of customers and training Georgie to notice the kitchen mishaps. She didn’t want Nana Edda worrying. Lucy had taken over How Sweet It Is when her grandfather had passed. Keeping it running was her responsibility and no one else’s. And she would figure out how to stay afloat—even if another sweet shop was opening right across the street.
Typically, when the shop was slow on a Friday afternoon, Lucy would retreat to the kitchen and take advantage of the quiet to whip up a batch of whichever sweet treat they were running low on, but she obviously couldn’t be trusted in the kitchen today. So instead, she crouched behind one of the display cases, rearranging it for the fourth time and trying to pretend she wasn’t quietly panicking, when the chimes over the etched-glass front door released a delicate cascade of sound, announcing a new customer.
Lucy looked automatically toward the entrance. Her best friend of twenty-five years struck a dramatic pose in the doorway, head thrown back, one arm in the air. At the sight, a smile broke through Lucy’s La Vie Douce preoccupation. Lena could always be counted on to jolt Lucy out of her worry-spirals. She was a human tidal wave of energy, crashing through life and leaving chaos and laughter in her wake.
“It’s official.” Lena thrust her left arm forward, elbow locked, fingers down. “We’re engaged!”
The diamond ring sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the shop windows as Tyler, Lena’s boyfriend—no, fiancé, apparently—appeared in the doorway behind her. Tyler was tall and steady, as silent as Lena was talkative, and his lips quirked in an affectionate smile.
At the opposite end of the L-shaped counter, Nana Edda squealed with delight. “Lena!”
Her grandmother rushed around the counter toward Lucy’s best friend, dragging the new clerk Georgie in her wake. Even the two teenage customers, who had been debating the merits of various cocoa bombs for the last five minutes, rushed to gather around the newly engaged couple, but for a single stunned moment, Lucy didn’t move.
She crouched behind the display case, shock holding her in place as a single thought rang loud inside her mind.
She’s leaving me behind.
She rallied quickly, shoving the thought away and kicking herself into motion, hurrying around the counter to join the knot of noisy congratulations and jewelry admiration.
Lena beamed, glowing with the attention. She looked so happy. Lucy couldn’t imagine why she’d felt that little flicker of hesitation. It wasn’t exactly a surprise. Lena had been hurtling toward this moment since the second she met Tyler nearly a year ago.
“I thought for sure he was going to do it on Valentine’s Day,” Lena gushed to her eager audience. “Since that’s the anniversary of the day we met. But he knew I was expecting that and that I would obsess about every little detail, worrying about what I was going to wear, and whether I had anything in my teeth, so he surprised me last night. There we were, in the kitchen eating takeout kung pao chicken, and suddenly he’s down on one knee.”
Lena shot her quiet fiancé a fond look, one that was returned with such affection that something twinged in Lucy’s chest. Something that almost felt like envy. She pushed it away, reminding herself that no matter how thrilled she was for Lena and Tyler, she didn’t have space in her life for romance right now.
Shoving aside her unexpectedly complicated feeling about the announcement, Lucy added an extra layer of cheer to her voice as she joined the chorus of well-wishes. “I’m so happy for you guys.”
Lena’s eyes locked on Lucy’s, forgetting the rest of the crowd. “Oh, Lucy!”
Lucy’s throat tightened at the joy in Lena’s eyes. A year ago, Lena had been nursing a broken heart after her breakup with Awful Adam, and now she was radiant with love. It felt like a puzzle piece falling into place. So why was Lucy also fighting back the sensation that something was coming to an end?
Lena pulled her into a hug, squeezing tight, then stepped back to arm’s length, her voice ringing with conviction as she declared, “It’s all thanks to you.”
“No, it isn’t.” Lucy’s face flushed as she found herself the focus of everyone’s gazes. Lena was a walking attention magnet, from her sunshine-yellow polka-dot dress to the hot pink daisy in her hair, but Lucy had always been happiest behind the scenes, tucked away in her kitchen in a chocolate-smudged apron.
She tried to step back, but Lena wasn’t ready to let her escape the spotlight.
“Are you kidding?” Lena’s grip tightened. “Of course it is! Tyler and I never would have met if it weren’t for the Cupid chocolates. Your magic recipe led me to my true love. And I am getting my picture on that wall.”
She thrust a freshly manicured finger toward the far wall, where a dozen framed photos were neatly arranged. The Cupid chocolate success stories.
Lena reached into the massive bag that was always hanging from her elbow. “I even came prepared.” She pulled out a framed photo of her and Tyler beaming into the camera. “I’m not gonna lie, I had this baby framed months ago so I’d be ready as soon as it happened. Our very own happily-ever-after!” She made an exaggerated pleading face for Lucy. “Can we put it up now? I want to get a picture of the Wall of Love with us on it.”
“The Wall of Love?” their new clerk Georgie asked, drawing Lena’s attention.
“You don’t know about the Wall?” She eyed Georgie’s crisp red apron with the How Sweet It Is logo in white across the chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the Cupid chocolates?”
“It’s her second day,” Lucy explained, but Lena gasped as if she’d insulted St. Valentine himself.
“It should be the first thing you tell people! The Cupid chocolates are legendary.” Lena marched over to the display case that held the Cupids, gazing at them with near religious fervor. “Every year on February fourteenth, anyone who eats a Cupid chocolate with an open heart is guaranteed to find their true love.”
Lucy felt panic spike at Lena’s words, especially when she saw the teenage customers exchange eager looks. “We don’t actually guarantee—”
“That’s how I met Tyler,” Lena continued, oblivious to Lucy’s liability concerns. “And how each of these couples met and fell in love.”
She waved one artful hand, seamlessly transferring all three eager gazes—Georgie’s and the two teen customers’—to the Wall of Love.
Lucy couldn’t help but look, too. She was more than a little proud of that wall, even if she was nervous about claiming the Cupid chocolates guaranteed results. All of those couples had fallen in love after eating one of the Cupid chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Her chocolates. Coincidence or not, it was pretty special to have had a hand in that many love stories.
Her kitten heels clicking on the hardwood, Lena led her disciples over to the Wall of Love—which was a short journey. The shop was only twelve feet across at its widest point. Glass display cases showcasing their wares lined the L-shaped counter, but the far wall was unobstructed—and filled with photos. Twelve in all. Soon to be thirteen.
Lucy let her gaze drift over the framed photos of couple after couple. Maybe she didn’t need to worry about the shop across the street. Maybe the How Sweet It Is chocolate shop could survive a little competition.
“They really make absolutely anyone fall in love with you?” one of the teenagers asked.
“Oh, no, that isn’t how the magic works,” Lena exclaimed, her voice filling the shop—and Lucy tried not to cringe at the matter-of-fact, of-course-magic-is-real-and-we’re-selling-it tone. She believed in the chocolates, mostly—almost completely—but she’d always been wary of promising things the shop couldn’t deliver.
“The Cupid chocolates don’t make anyone fall in love,” Lena continued. “They guide whoever bites into them on Valentine’s Day with an open heart toward true love, but it may not be with the person you expect. Tyler and I were both on dates with other people when we realized we were meant to be with one another.”
“So they only work on Valentine’s Day?” the teen asked, an edge of disappointment coloring her tone. V-day was still several weeks away.
Again, Lucy opened her mouth to confirm that was, indeed, the belief, but her grandmother got there first. “Well, the magic is certainly most potent on Valentine’s Day, so be sure you come back then and bring your friends—”
“Nana…”
“I’ll take two,” the other teen ordered. Nana Edda quickly ushered the customers toward the main register.
Georgie went with them, and Tyler gave a sideways nod toward the Cupids. “I’ll get us a couple to celebrate.” He moved toward the others, leaving Lena alone with Lucy and the photos.
Lena held her picture up on the wall, trying out different spots, as Nana Edda waxed poetic about the family’s secret chocolate recipe. Lucy held back the urge to intervene as her grandmother stretched the truth to the breaking point and beyond. Nana Edda had always liked a story. So much so that Lucy wasn’t sure her grandmother even realized when she passed the threshold from truth into fiction. Lucy was the one who worried about the realities—such as the consequences for guaranteeing something they couldn’t deliver. She was the one who flinched every time her grandmother promised untold flights of romance with every purchase.
“What if we moved your great-grandparents’ picture?” Lena asked, pulling Lucy’s attention away from the Cupid discussion at the registers. “Gave them a place of honor. Maybe at the top? We can put Tyler and me in their old spot and then we won’t have to move the others around to make space for this one. What do you think?”
“That sounds good,” Lucy agreed. “I trust your eye more than mine.”
Lena was the one with artistic vision. Her family had run the flower shop down the street for nearly as long as Lucy’s had run the chocolate shop, and Lena did all their arrangements.
“You’re going to need a bigger wall after this year,” Lena commented, moving the photos around. Then she pulled a hammer and nail out of her giant purse to hang Lucy’s great-grandparents’ photo at the top, reigning over all the happy couples. Never let it be said that Lena didn’t come prepared to get what she wanted. She slanted a quick glance at Lucy. “And you’ll need a special spot for your own photo.”
Lucy groaned. “Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying that you have to try one this year! You’re the romantic enabler, making the dreams of all the people around you come true. Now it’s your turn to grab a little of that magic for yourself.”
“I’m fine just the way I am,” she insisted. She had too much on her plate to be adding romance to the mix. Ever since she’d taken over running How Sweet It Is, they’d been hanging on by their financial fingernails. Now, with La Vie Douce about to open across the street, she couldn’t afford to get distracted.
“This is not fine.” Lena frowned. “All you do is work. And I love this shop, but all work and no play isn’t fine.” She took one last look at her handiwork, and then turned to focus the full force of her attention on Lucy. “And besides, don’t you want to be more than fine? Don’t you want to be incandescently, deliriously happy?”
“I’ll leave that to you.”
Lena made a face, clearly prepared to argue more, but Lucy’s grandmother spoke before she could.
“Don’t mind her.” Nana Edda rounded the counter to join them. Lucy hadn’t noticed the other customers leaving. Tyler was still quietly taking photos of the Cupids while Georgie studied them as if looking for traces of magic. “She’s been grumpy all morning. Ever since they put up that sign across the street.”
Lena’s face twisted with sympathy. “I saw that.”
Lucy met her grandmother’s gaze. “I thought I’d done a good job of pretending not to notice.” She’d been trying so hard not to let her worry spill over onto anyone else.
Nana Edda’s eyebrows arched high over her glasses. “You burned two batches of caramel. And charred that dark chocolate to a crisp.”
“Oh, honey, are you okay?” Lena asked and Lucy squirmed under Lena and Nana Edda’s combined concern.
“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine.”
Lena’s face told her what she thought of fine, but this time, she didn’t argue. As one, they looked out the front window and across the street.
How Sweet It Is was a cozy little shop with an old-fashioned feel. They’d upgraded the display cases and added a credit-card reader since the days when her great-grandparents had first opened the shop on Watson Corners’ Main Street, but it still had an antique cash register that cheerfully binged every time they made change.
The kitchens were twice the size of the shop and gleaming with the results of the small-business loan Lucy had taken out to upgrade them when she took over the shop. The tiny little office in the back was lined with photos of her grandparents and great-grandparents, the history of the place surrounding her every time she sat down to do the books, a reminder of those who had come before.
And a reminder that if she didn’t manage to pay off the last of that small-business loan, she might lose everything that they’d built.
Watson Corners had been a cute little town when her great-grandparents had emigrated from Belgium and settled there. But in recent decades, the nearby city had expanded, and a posh suburb had slowly surrounded Watson Corners. The charming downtown area had stayed intact, but subdivisions of gorgeous new homes and manicured lawns had sprung up where open fields used to be.
Big businesses had followed, as well as many not-so-big businesses that flocked to the upscale suburb to cater to its posh new residents.
Like the fancy French whatever moving in across the street.
The hardware store in that space had closed down last year, the older couple who ran it for decades retiring and moving to Arizona. The storefront had been vacant for so long that the other shops along Main Street had started a betting pool on what would finally move into the massive space. It was easily triple the size of How Sweet It Is, even if she included the kitchens and the apartment above.
When construction had started, the windows had stayed covered with brown paper so no one could see what was being done inside, and the betting pool had gone wild. Lucy herself had wagered it would be a microbrewery. Or a new restaurant—maybe some fancy Michelin-star place that would draw more people to the area.
She hadn’t expected direct competition.
The swirly cursive of the “Coming Soon” sign had gone up this morning. And her stomach had instantly knotted.
“Maybe they’re a bistro. Or a savory-only French bakery,” Lena suggested with her usual degree of optimism. “Quiche and croque monsieur and baguettes and nothing else.”
“They’re huge,” Lucy said, staring at the building. She’d been so eager for a new business to open, but now she was dreading February first, the opening date listed on the sign. “It could be a chocolate factory for all we know. A French Willy Wonka.”
“Soups,” Nana Edda declared. “It’s all French onion soup and pommes frites, I bet.”
“Even if they are a bistro, they’ll have sweets, too,” Lucy said, always the voice of logic. “Pastries and tarts and chocolate croissants. And if people are already eating over there, they’re hardly going to walk across the street to get their dessert from us. People want one-stop-shopping, and all we are is chocolate.”
“We have a loyal customer base,” her grandmother insisted. “We’re a Watson Corners institution.”
And we’re barely hanging on as it is.
Lucy kept that thought to herself, just like she’d hoarded all the financial worry over the last few years.
Her grandmother was magic with the customers, but Lucy was the one who had taken business classes at night so she could run the shop when her grandfather passed away. It was all on her now, from placing the supply orders to making the chocolates to keeping the books. She’d grown up in these kitchens, learning the recipes from her grandfather and great-grandmother. How Sweet It Is was home. And she would not be the one who let it fail.
“I should get back,” Lena said. “But don’t worry, okay? I know that’s a big ask for you, but you’ve got this. Everyone loves How Sweet It Is.”
“Thank you, Lena.” She squeezed her friend’s hands, feeling the unfamiliar presence of the ring. “And congratulations again! Today is all about you and Tyler.”
“You bet it is.” Lena beamed, linking her arm with her fiancé and sharing a look that made Lucy feel like she was standing outside on a snowy night, looking through a window at a warm, cozy fire.
Lucy waited until the bells above the door had rung over the exiting lovebirds before turning to her grandmother and arching her eyebrows. “Did I hear you tell those girls that the Cupid myth dates back through seven generations of Sweet women?” she drawled. “Don’t you think you got a little carried away with the lore there?”
“What?” Nana Edda asked with artful innocence. “We don’t know that the legend started with Gigi. Her ancestors probably meddled in love lives for centuries.”
“But they wouldn’t even have been Sweet women,” Lucy argued.
“They wouldn’t?” Georgie’s gaze pinged eagerly between Lucy and her grandmother. The grad student had been hired to give Lucy’s grandmother a break, but that had been before Lucy realized she was about to have competition directly across the street. Now she had yet another person on her payroll to worry about if the shop went under.
“Gigi married into the family,” Nana Edda explained. “Just like me.”
“And my great-grandparents changed their name to Sweet from Van Suyt when they emigrated to this country from Belgium. Which gives us, at most, four generations of Sweet women. If we include my mother, who also married into the family and has never made a chocolate in her life. Any more than that is just—”
“Adding a little flourish to the truth. It’s harmless.” Her grandmother dismissed her concerns with a wave of her hand. “People know I’m not serious. And they like the story.”
“They don’t know you’re not serious. And if they realize we’re lying about how many generations of Sweet women chocolatiers there have been, they might start wondering what else we’re lying about.”
“You mean the chocolates?” Nana Edda’s chin tipped up in affront. “We aren’t lying about the Cupid chocolates.”
“You can’t go around guaranteeing people that the Cupids will make them fall in love, Nana. We’re going to get sued by someone when it doesn’t work for them.”
“I didn’t guarantee. Who guaranteed?”
Lucy arched an eyebrow and her grandmother relented.
“Okay, yes, my language may have been a little on the guarantee-ish side of things, but no one is going to sue you over something your sweet little grandma said.” She fluttered her lashes, somehow making herself look small and helpless.
Lucy snorted, incapable of keeping a straight face. “Just try to go easy on the promises, okay? And maybe stop telling everyone the recipe is seven generations old? The fact that it was Gigi’s secret recipe is impressive enough.”
“It is when you say it. You can call her your great-grandmother, and it sounds like an ancient family secret. When I say it was my mother-in-law’s recipe, it has much less gravitas. Less sense of history.”
A history that might not last much longer if Lucy couldn’t keep things afloat.
She rubbed at her chest, worry pressing against her, tightening her lungs—and her grandmother caught the gesture.
“You should bite into one of those Cupid chocolates yourself. Fall in love. Let loose a little. You’ve gotten entirely too serious, Lucy Sweet.”
Lucy met her grandmother’s eyes, smiling helplessly at one of her favorite people on the planet. “I figure one of us ought to be.”
“Nonsense.” Nana Edda flapped a hand dismissively. “Seriousness is entirely overrated. Now love. Love is something the maker of the famous Cupid chocolates should fall into as soon as possible.”
What was it about one engagement that made everyone start looking for romance everywhere? “I’m fine just the way I am. Thank you.”
“I know, I know. Too busy for romance.” Her grandmother eyed her shrewdly. “But I also know you aren’t really worried about my harmless little exaggerations. You’re worried about that French place across the street.”
Lucy’s gaze went back to the frost-edged front windows of How Sweet It Is and the street beyond.
“Why don’t you do more to advertise the magic of the Cupids?” Georgie inquired. “I know someone who works for the local news station. I bet they’d love a story about magic Valentine’s chocolates.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea!” Nana Edda exclaimed. “The Cupids are always our biggest sellers this time of year. People may not cross the street for any old candy, but they’ll come for love. Especially if we get the word out. I bet people would come from all around—”
Lucy held up both hands in stop signs. “No. No reporters.” She needed to keep her grandmother and her true-love guarantees as far away from reporters and their recording devices as possible. A lawsuit for false advertising was the last thing they needed. “The legend can spread the same way it always has—by word of mouth from happy customers.”
How Sweet It Is would survive the latest changes to Watson Corners. Just like it had for the last seventy years. Everything would be fine.
And if the current maker of the famous Cupid chocolates had never actually been in love…well. There would always be time for love later. Right now, she had a business to run.
Release Date: February 4, 2023
Release Time: 84 minutes
Director: David Weaver
Cast:
Eloise Mumford as Lucy Sweet
Dan Jeannotte as Dean Chase
Brenda Strong as Helen Sweet
Christin Park as Serena
Robert Underwood as Gary Shea
Jordana Summer as Georgie
Linda Ko as Nora Nguyen
Alexander Steele Zonjic as Tyler(as Alexander Zonjic)
Tosca Baggoo as Claire
Bobby Stewart as Malcolm(as Bobby L. Stewart)
Zack Currie as Mark Martinez-Spencer
Eduardo Britto as Pablo Martinez-Spencer
Jillian Knowles as Young Helen
Liam Boland as Scott Sweet
Nik Andrews as Wyatt Grace
Ron Holmes as Lucy's Opa
Cadence Compton as Young Luc
Contemporary romance author Lizzie Shane was born in Alaska and still calls the frozen north home, though she can frequently be found indulging her travel addiction. Thankfully, her laptop travels with her and she has written her way through all fifty states and over fifty countries.
Lizzie has been honored to win the Golden Heart Award and HOLT Medallion, and has been named a finalist three times for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA Award, but her main claim to fame is that she lost on Jeopardy!
B&N / iTUNES / SMASHWORDS
Film
Sunday, February 16, 2025
Friday, February 14, 2025
💝💋📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘💋💘: The Convenient Groom by Denise Hunter
A Nantucket Love Story #2
She wrote the book--literally--on finding the right mate. But does she really understand what love's about?
Five hours before her Nantucket beach wedding--and on the eve of her big book launch--celebrity marriage counselor Kate Lawrence has everything in place.
Everything, that is, but the groom. She might not have a career, either, when her nationwide audience finds out their marriage guru has been left at the altar.
Enter Lucas Wright, who offers to stand in for the missing husband-to-be and marry her. Kate's desperate enough to agree--although she's sure this Mr. Wright is completely wrong for her. But can they pull it off? And why would Lucas marry her in the first place?
Could it be that "Dr. Kate" doesn't know the first thing about love?
An inspiring tale of enduring love set in romantic Nantucket.
Each Romance For Good™ novel offers a story of hope and love that positively portrays the eternal impact of relationships.
Chapter One
The red light on Kate Lawrence's cell phone blinked a staccato warning. But before she could retrieve the message, her maid of honor, Anna Doherty, waved her pale arms from the beach, stealing her attention.
Anna's smooth voice sounded in her headset. "Kate, can you come here? We've got a few glitches."
"Be right there." Kate tucked her clipboard in the crook of her elbow, took the steps down Jetty Pavilion's porch, and crossed the heel-sinking sand of the Nantucket shoreline. In six hours, thirty-four guests would be seated there in the rows of white chairs, watching Kate pledge her life to Bryan Montgomery under a beautiful hand-carved gazebo.
Where was the gazebo anyway? She checked her watch, then glanced toward the Pavilion, where workers scurried in white uniforms. No sign of Lucas.
She approached Anna, who wore worry lines as naturally as she wore her Anne Klein pantsuit. Anna was the best receptionist Kate could ask for. Her capable presence reassured the troubled couples she ushered through Kate's office.
Right now, Anna's long brown hair whipped across her face like a flag gone awry, and she batted it from her eyes with her freckled hand. "Soiree's just called. Their delivery truck is in for service, and the flowers will be a little late. Half an hour at the most."
Kate jotted the note on her schedule. "That's okay." She'd factored in cushion time.
"Murray's called, and the tuxes haven't been picked up except for your dad's."
Bryan and his best man had been due at Murray's at nine thirty. An hour ago. "I'll check on that. What else?"
Anna's frown lines deepened, and her eyes blinked against the wind. "The carriage driver is sick, but they're trying to find a replacement. The Weatherbys called and asked if they could attend last minute—they were supposed to go out of town, but their plans changed."
Kate nodded. "Fine, fine. Call and tell her they're welcome. I'll notify the caterer."
"Your publicist—Pam?—has been trying to reach you. Did you check your cell? She said she got voice mail. Anyway, your book copies did arrive this morning. She dropped this off." Anna pulled a hardback book from under her clipboard. "Ta-da!"
"My book!" Kate stared at the cover, where the title, Finding Mr. Right-for-You, floated above a cartoon couple. The man was on his knee, proposing. Below them, a colorful box housed the bold letters of Kate's name. She ran her fingers over the glossy book jacket, feeling the raised bumps of the letters, savoring the moment.
"Pam wants a quick photo shoot before the guests arrive. You holding the book, that kind of thing. You should probably call her."
Kate jotted the note. While it was on her mind, she reached down and turned on her cell.
"Ready for more great news?" Anna asked. Her blue eyes glittered like diamonds. The news had to be good.
"What?"
"The New York Times is sending a reporter and a photographer. They want to do a feature story on your wedding and your book."
Fresh air caught and held in Kate's lungs. Rosewood Press was probably turning cartwheels. "That's fabulous. They'll want an interview." She scanned her schedule, looking for an open slot. After the reception? She hated to do it, but Bryan would understand. The New York Times. It would give Kate's initial sales the boost it needed. Maybe enough to make the bestseller list.
"Here's the number." Anna handed her a yellow Post-It. "That tabloid guy has been hanging around all morning, trying to figure out who the groom is. I told him he'd find out in six hours like everyone else. The rest of the media is scheduled to arrive an hour before the wedding, and Pam's having an area set up over there for them." Anna gestured behind the rows of chairs to a square blocked off with white ribbon.
"Good. I want them to be as inconspicuous as possible. This is my wedding, and a girl only gets married once, after all."
"One would hope." Anna said. "Is there anything else I can do?"
Kate gave her a sideways hug, as close to an embrace as she'd ever given her assistant, her fingers pressing into Anna's fleshy shoulder. "You're a godsend. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Oh! I know what I forgot to tell you. The gazebo. It should have been here by now. I tried to call Lucas, but I got the machine, and I don't have his cell number."
"His shop's closed today, and he doesn't have a cell." The man didn't wear a watch, much less carry a phone. She should've known better than to put something this crucial in his hands. Kate checked her watch. "I'll run over and check on it."
* * *
The drive to town was quick and effortless, but Kate's mind swam with a hundred details. She jotted reminders on her clipboard when she stopped for pedestrians, occasionally admiring the cover of her book.
She couldn't believe what a wonderful day it was. She had a book coming out, she was about to walk down the aisle, and the weather couldn't be more perfect. Thank you, God, for the beautiful day, for the man I'm about to marry, for the book deal. Eveything was in perfect order.
She called Pam for a quick recap about the New York Times reporter, and by the time she hung up, she was pulling into a parallel slot on Main Street, in front of Lucas's storefront.
The sign above the picture window read "Cottage House Furniture." On the second floor of the Shaker building, the wooden shingle for her own business dangled from a metal pole: "Kate Lawrence, Marriage Counseling Services." She needed to remind Lucas to remove it; otherwise he'd leave it hanging for another year or until someone else rented the space.
Kate exited her car and slid her key into the rusty lock of the shop's door. Once inside, she passed the stairs leading to her office and walked through the darkened maze of furniture to the back, where she hoped to find Lucas. She bumped an end table with her shin. Ow! That would leave a mark.
The high-pitched buzz of a power tool pierced the darkness, a good sign. "Lucas?" She rapped loudly on the metal door with her knuckles. The noise stopped.
"Come in."
She opened the door. Lucas Wright looked up from his spot on the cement floor at the base of the gazebo, his too-long hair hanging over one eye. He looked her over, then turned back to the spindle and ran his thick hand over it as if testing the curves.
"Aren't you supposed to be at the beach?" he asked.
Kate crossed her arms. "I could ask you the same thing."
He stood, agile for his size, and backed away from the gazebo. Sawdust from the floor clung to his faded jeans and black T-shirt. "I was just finishing."
"You were supposed to be there an hour ago. The gazebo needs to be put in place before the sound system, and the florist has to decorate it, and there are people waiting to do their jobs."
He faced her, looking into her in that way of his that made her feel like he could see clean through her. "Today's the big day, huh?" Putting his tool on his workhorse, he dusted off his hands, moving in slow motion as though he'd decided tonight wouldn't arrive until next week.
Kate checked her watch. "Do you think you can get this down to the beach sometime today?"
Walking around the piece, he studied it, hands on his hips, head cocked. "You like it?"
For the first time since the week before, Kate looked at the gazebo—the white lattice top, the hand-carved spindles, the gentle arch of the entry. At the top of the arch, a piece of wood curved gracefully, etched with clusters of daisies. The gazebo's simple lines were characteristic of Lucas's work, but she'd never known him to use such exquisite detail. The piece had an elegance that surpassed her expectations. He did beautiful work; she'd give him that.
"I do. I love the etching." She sighed. Just when he irritated the snot out of her, he did something like this, caught her off guard. She always felt like she was tripping down the stairs when she was with him.
Focus! "It needs to find its way to the beach. Pronto."
"Yes ma'am." His salute was unhurried.
Before she could offer a retort, her cell phone pealed and buzzed simultaneously, and she pulled it from her capri pocket.
"Hello?"
"Kate?"
"Bryan." Turning away from Lucas and toward the door, she eyed a crude desk with a metal folding chair that bore countless rusty scratches. "Good morning." A smile crept into her voice. It was their wedding day. The day they'd planned for nearly two years. "Did you sleep well?" She hadn't. She'd rumpled the sheets until nearly two o'clock, but that was to be expected.
The silence on the other end, however, was not. "Bryan?" Had she lost the signal?
"Um, Kate, did you get my message?"
There'd been a blinking red light this morning. She'd assumed it was Pam's voice mail and hadn't checked. Suddenly, she wished she had.
"No. What's wrong?"
"Are you sitting down?"
"No, I'm not sitting down. Just tell me." An ugly dread snaked down her spine and settled there, coiled and waiting.
"I'm on my way back to Boston," he said. "I left a message this morning. You must've had your phone off."
Kate's stomach stirred. She stared at the wall in front of her—a pegboard with a zillion holes, metal prongs poking from it, tools and cords everywhere. "What happened?" Some emergency, maybe?
What emergency could trump our wedding?
"I can't marry you, Kate."
The words dropped, each one crumbling under its own weight. The stirring in her stomach intensified. "That's not funny, Bryan." It was a terrible joke. He'd never been good with jokes. His punch lines left you leaning forward, waiting for the rest.
"I'm in love with someone else."
Pain. A huge wooden spoon, tossing the contents of her stomach. Her legs wobbled, trembling on the wedge heels of her sandals, and she clutched the cold metal of the folding chair. "What?" Was that her voice, weak and thready? Someone had vacuumed all the moisture from her mouth, sucked the air from her lungs.
"I'm so sorry," Bryan was saying. "I know this is awful. You don't deserve this, but I can't marry you. It happened slowly, and I didn't realize what was going on until recently. I tried to put it out of my mind, but I just can't. And I can't marry you knowing how I feel. I'm so sorry, Kate."
"What?" It was the only word her mind could form at the moment.
"I know there's no excuse. I should have told you before now, but I thought it would go away. I thought I was just having cold feet or something, but it's more than that."
"We've been together for two years, Bryan."
It was a stupid thing to say, but it was all she could think of. Memories played across the screen of her mind in fast-forward. The day they'd met in line at Starbucks in downtown Boston when Kate had gone there for a conference. Their first date at the Colonial Theatre. The long-distance courting and weekend visits. The e-mails, the phone calls, the engagement, the book. It all whizzed by, coming to a screeching halt here, at this moment. Here, in Lucas's dusty workshop. Here, in front of the special gazebo they were to be married in.
"I've already called my family and told them. I know there's a lot to do, and I'll help any way you want me to. And then there's your book ... I'm so sorry."
Sorry. You're sorry? She pictured the precise rows of white chairs, the tent being erected as they spoke, the celebrity preacher, the photographers.
The New York Times.
She closed her burning eyes. Everything would have to be cancelled.
At that thought, humiliation arrived on the scene, sinking in past the pain of betrayal. The weight of it pushed at her shoulders, and she grabbed the hair at her nape. Think, Kate! This is no time to lose it.
"Stop, Bryan. Just stop and think about what you're doing. Maybe you're letting your issues with your parents' divorce affect your decisions. This kind of fear is perfectly natural before a wedding, and maybe—"
"No, it's not that—"
"How do you know?" She forced reason into her tone. Used her soothing voice—the one she used when things got heated between one of her couples. "We love each other. We're perfect for each other. You've said it a hundred times."
"There's something missing, Kate."
She wobbled again and steadied herself with a hand on the chair. "Something missing"? What was that supposed to mean?
As her mind grappled with that seemingly unanswerable question, she felt a hand at her back, leading her into the chair. She was sitting, her head as fuzzy as a cotton-candy machine, her emerald-cut engagement ring blurring before her eyes.
"What do you mean there's something missing? The only thing missing is the groom. For our wedding that starts in five hours. Five hours, Bryan." Now she felt the hysteria building and took a full breath, nearly choking on the way the oxygen stretched her lungs.
"I'll help in any way I can."
"You can help by showing up for our wedding!"
Her mind ran through the list of people she'd have to call. Her dad, the guests, her publisher. She thought of the money Rosewood Press had spent on this elaborate beach wedding. They'd flown in friends and family from all over the country, paid for the photographer, flowers, caterer, the wedding attire. Kate had only wanted a simple wedding, but with the release of the book, the marketing department had other ideas. "An elegant wedding and a surprise groom just as the book releases. We can ask Reverend James McFadden to perform the ceremony! Think of the publicity, Kate!"
A knot started in her throat and burned its way to her heart.
"I'll always care about you," Bryan said.
The words fell, as empty as a discarded soda bottle on a deserted beach.
Enough.
The adrenaline coursing through her veins drained suddenly, leaving her once again weak and shaky. She couldn't talk to him anymore. She wasn't going to break down on the phone, wasn't going to beg him to come back. It wouldn't accomplish a thing anyway. She'd heard this tone of Bryan's voice before. He was a man who knew what he wanted. And what he didn't want.
And he didn't want Kate. She suddenly knew that fact as surely as she knew tomorrow would be more impossible to face than today.
She cleared her throat. "I have to go."
"Kate, tell me what I can do. My family will pitch in too. I want to help fix things."
She wanted to tell him there was no fixing this. There was no fixing her heart or the impending collision of her life and her career. Instead, numb, she closed the phone, staring straight ahead at the holes on the pegboard until they blended together in a blurry haze.
He was leaving her. The man she loved was walking away. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Not to her. She'd been so careful, and for what? A hollow spot opened up in her stomach, wide and gaping.
Instead of the headlines reading "Marriage Expert Finds Her Mr. Right," they would read "Marriage Expert Jilted at the Altar."
Kate had never considered herself prideful, but the thought of facing the next twenty-four hours made cyanide seem reasonable. How can this be happening, God? To me, of all people? She'd written a book on the subject of finding the right mate and had managed to find the wrong one instead. By tomorrow the whole world would know.
Release Date: June 18, 2016
Release Time: 84 minutes
Director: David Winning
Cast:
Vanessa Marcil as Kate Lawrence
David Sutcliffe as Lucas Wright
Karen Holness as Pam
Aaron Craven as Bryan Pankhurst
Kalyn Miles as Anna
Larissa Dias as Jamie Wright (as Larissa Albuquerque)
Karen Kruper as Susan Wright
Fred Henderson as Roy Wright
Austin Anozie as Henry (as Austin Obiajunwa)
Eileen Barrett as Phyllis
Cadie Fox as Fan
Lisa Durupt as Stephanie
Denise Hunter is the internationally published bestselling author of more than forty novels, three of which have been adapted into Hallmark movies. She has appeared on the The 700 Club and been featured in Southern Living and Woman's World.
Denise writes heartwarming, small-town love stories, peopled with layered characters who have real-life issues. Her readers enjoy the vicarious thrill of falling in love and the promise of a happily-ever-after sigh as they savor the final pages of her books.
In 1996, inspired by the death of her grandfather, Denise began her first book, writing while her children napped. Two years later it was published, and she's been writing ever since. Her husband says he inspires all her romantic stories, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too!
When Denise isn't orchestrating love lives on the written page, she enjoys traveling, drinking chai lattes, hiking, and playing drums. Denise makes her home in Indiana where she and her husband raised three boys and are currently enjoying an empty nest and two beautiful granddaughters.
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